


Thin Walls

by VulpesVulpes713



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Laith, M/M, NSFW, Pidge - Freeform, eavesdropping is bad pidge, implied nsfw, klance, you really brought this upon yourself my dude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-05 00:20:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15852423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VulpesVulpes713/pseuds/VulpesVulpes713
Summary: Pidge unearths the truth about Lance and Keith's relationship in a most...unfortunate manner.





	Thin Walls

**Author's Note:**

> this has implications for nsfw so if that makes you uncomfortable then maybe don't read? It's not bad. but yeah.

She’s heard Keith training enough to know the sounds he makes. The grunts, the groans, the gumbles…Pidge is familiar with them, to say the least.

 

And she wouldn’t be at all surprised to hear them should she walk by the training deck at any given point in the day. Keith lived there, basically. And it wasn’t like he was quiet about his noises. The team’s just gotten used to them.

 

But what has Pidge startled is not so much the sound of Keith huffing, but rather the location from which she hears it.

She’s nowhere  _near_  the training deck, where similar sounds would typically originate.

 

No.

 

Instead, she’s walking along a section of hallway in the Castle of Lions that Keith, quite frankly, has no business being in. It’s full of facility rooms: tech, machines, wires…storage.

 

So she pauses, tilting her head to try and hear it again. After all, maybe she just imagined–

 

_“–do you think you’re doing?”_

 

Words this time? Curious.

 

She edges closer to a room sealed by a door, keeping to the walls to prevent activating the motion sensors. She knows she shouldn’t linger, but she can’t help it. Eavesdropping is a hobby, and she  _needs_  to know more. Because…the voice hadn’t been Keith’s, as she would have expected following his grunt.

 

Rather, this sounded almost like–

 

_“The hell Lance!”_

 

Hmm. Yep.

 

Curious indeed.

 

She presses her ear to the wall as Keith goes on.

 

_“I’m doing it just like you told me to!”_

 

_“You can’t just_ shove  _it in!”_  Lance berates. _“You have to prep it first.”_

 

Pidge frowns. The voices are muffled and hard to make out, but she’s sure she hears Keith sigh in frustration.

 

_What are they-_

 

_“And how exactly do I do that?”_ Keith again, sounding annoyed.

 

_“What, you’ve never done this before?”_ Lance now. She presses closer.

 

_“No! Course not!”_ A pause, then:  _“Have you?”_

 

_“Obviously Keith. I’m knowledged in many things.”_

 

Keith grunts, and Pidge confirms that as the sound she first heard.

 

_“Then show me, Mr. ‘I-know-how-to-do-everything’.”_

 

She thinks she can hear Lance laugh, but it’s difficult to decipher against the overall hum of the ship filling the hall.

 

_“That’s me!”_ Lance must be grinning. Pidge can hear it in his voice.  _“Now hand me that bottle.”_

 

_Bottle…?_

 

There’s a beat of silence, in which Keith must do as Lance requests, because the next thing Pidge hears is the sound of something being squeezed from a tube, reminiscent of dish soap, or even lotion. She adjusts her glasses to better flatten her ear to the wall.

 

_“Ew…”_  Lance whines.  _“Why is it so…sticky? What is this?”_

 

_“I don’t know,”_  Keith answers, and Pidge hears a footstep–imagines he must have moved closer to Lance to investigate.  _“I just found it.”_

 

_“Excuse me?? You just_ found _it?! What if it burns..or-or melts off our-”_

 

_“If it could do that then the container wouldn’t be pink.”_  Keith interrupts. _“It’s fine.”_

 

_“Oh, are you suddenly the expert on Altean products? Pink means different things to different people Keith. Or…aliens, in this case.”_

 

Keith huffs again, and Pidge almost laughs as she pictures the expression he must be wearing.

 

_“It’s fine! Look, your fingers are still attached. Plus-”_ he breaks off, and Lance yelps.  _“It smells good, and tastes like kiwi.”_

 

_Like…Kiwi?_  Pidge thinks in confusion.

 

_“I can’t believe you just did that. What if it was toxic?”_ Lance admonishes, and Pidge realizes that Keith must have tasted whatever substance Lance is complaining about.

 

_Typical Keith._

 

_“Then make sure you tell people I died a cooler death,”_  Keith says, and there’s something odd in the way he does. Almost like he’s…teasing? Does Keith tease? And with Lance??

 

Pidge didn’t think they were that close-

 

_“So what’s the next step.”_

 

She silences her thoughts, ready to hear Lance’s reply.

 

_“Well, you have to make sure you get enough on, to coat everything properly.”_

 

_“Okay..”_  The bottle is squeezed again, and Keith gasps.  _“Ah! It’s cold!”_

 

Lance chuckles, and Pidge is beyond confused.

 

_“It’s fine. I think it’ll warm up.”_

 

_“How do you know that?”_

 

Another pause, in which Pidge assumes they must both be staring at whatever bottle Keith brought due to Lance’s next remark.

 

_“Isn’t this the Altean word for ‘hot’?”_

 

_“How should I know?!”_ Keith squeaks. Wow. He squeaks now too.  _“You’re Mr. ‘know-it-all’!”_

 

_“ Actually it’s Mr. ‘I-know-how-to-do-everything’, according to you. Quit changing my title.”_

 

Pidge blinks.

 

She’s quite sure she just heard a giggle.

 

_“Well at least now I know you’re worthy of it,”_ Keith responds. And it’s  _fond?!_ Pidge leans back from the wall for a moment, pinching her side to make sure she’s actually awake and not like, vividly hallucinating all this.

 

Because there’s no way…there’s no way–

 

_“Quit distracting me!”_ Lance scolds, but it’s not serious. She’s heard Lance serious and this is not at all the same thing.  _“Now you have to rub it i-GENTLY!”_

 

She jumps, alarmed by the sudden volume of Lance’s voice.

 

_“Jesus Keith! You’ll make it tear if you do it that forcefully!”_

 

_“No I won’t, relax.”_

 

_“Just-”_ A brief scuffle, in which Pidge rubs her temples as she attempts to process all this. And then Keith is gasping.

 

_“What are you-”_

 

_“Here,”_ Lance cuts him off. _“Like this.”_

 

There’s a silence that follows, and Pidge strains to hear.

 

_“See?”_  Lance.  _“Now use your fingers to massage it in.”_

 

_“Oh…yeah. I get it. Like this?”_

 

Lance makes a noise that Pidge can’t decipher.

 

_“Ehh…Not so rough. You’ll stretch it too much-wait.”_

 

_“What?”_

 

Something shifts. A table maybe? It’s impossible to tell.

 

_“Is it-?”_ Lance pauses, then:  _“Is it getting bigger?”_

 

_“I don’t think so-”_

 

_“No, no, it definitely is! Keith stop! Stop!”_

 

_“It’s not! I can’t see-”_

 

_“Well I can and it’s for sure bigger than it was before!”_

 

Pidge frowns, edging closer to the door.

 

_“Then maybe we just need more of this-”_ Keith begins, the sound of a bottle being squeezed once more, but he stops short as Lance squeals.

 

_“No! It’s too much!”_

 

_“Oh wait,”_ Keith hums.  _“Yeah I think it is getting bigger.”_

 

_“No freaking shit!!”_ Lance again, and Pidge takes another step closer, worried now.  _“Quit touching it! You’re gonna make it worse-”_

 

_“Why is it getting stickier?!”_

 

_“Keith!”_

 

_“It feels weird-”_

 

_“STOP!”_

 

Pidge trips.

 

The door slides open.

 

Her glasses fly off, but she can make out the shapes of Keith and Lance as they whirl to face her.

 

She panics, registering that Keith is currently sans shirt, and something in her brain clicks together that maybe she interrupted a moment that had no business being interrupted. One that she had no intention of hearing, much less witnessing.

 

_Oh god what have I done! What have_ they  _done! What were they doing! What-_

 

“Pidge!” Lance yelps, and she shuts her eyes tight, arms coming up to shield her face and hopefully her innocence.

 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to-I didn’t see anything-I mean-Gah!”

 

She expects excuses, or hurried reassurances.  _Something_  to explain what she’s just walked in on.

 

What she doesn’t expect is Lance.

 

“Pidge! Just the person we need!”

 

_Oh what the fuc-_

 

And then something is pressed into her hand, and she flinches for a second, before her fingers coil around the familiar shape of her glasses. She pauses, slow to put them on and blinking cautiously when she does.

 

Lance is in front of her, crouched and grinning, with Keith in the background scowling at his hands.

 

They’re covered in some sort of pink substance, like honey but thicker.

 

The room smells of kiwis.

 

“What-” she begins, but trails off as Lance stands, picking something up from off the table- _it had been a table!-_ and turning to face her again.

 

“Do you know how to get stains out of clothes?”

 

She blanks: mouth falling open as she understands the situation. The conversation suddenly makes sense, and she registers several large machines in the corner of the room, surrounded by clothing scattered haphazardly on the floor. Water and suds slosh lazily in one tub, and several bottles are stacked on a shelf nearby.

 

It’s a laundry room.

 

They were washing their clothes.

 

Her mind is in chaos, desperate to drown the images she had fabricated when all she could hear were the voices of her teammates. She feels guilty for having assumed.

 

_I should have known…_

 

“I uh-” she stands, awkwardly, and stares down at the black t-shirt in Lance’s hand. It’s Keith’s. Of  _couse_  it’s Keith’s. Otherwise he wouldn’t be shirtless! “A stain?”

 

“Yeah,” Lance answers. “We’ve been trying for like,  _ever_ , and the stupid thing won’t come out. In fact I think we just made it worse.”

 

“Oh, hmmm,” she clears her throat, nervous energy gone as she straightens and takes the shirt from Lance’s hands. And then she’s laughing. “Geesh, I feel so stupid.”

 

“Why?” Keith asks, trying to unstick his fingers and failing miserably.

 

“Haa, it’s just…” she takes a breath, cheeks flushing as the images resurface. God, her imagination is just  _too active_  at times. “I thought you guys were…like…”

 

Lance and Keith both stare back, confused and waiting for her to go on. But she doesn’t. It’s not worth the humiliation. And wouldn’t it be awkward to put them in that situation?

 

This is Lance and Keith. They don’t…they  _wouldn’t_  do that. Not here. Not at all! 

 

So she waves them off, shrugging.

 

“Nevermind. So, what sort of stain is it? Food? Dirt?”

 

No one answers, and when she looks up she watches as Lance and Keith both flush a deep red, exchanging a… _guilty look? Is that guilt?_

 

No.

 

No…It’s not! It’s..it’s- _shame? Pride? Lust?!_

 

She figures a combination of all three, but that’s about as far as her mind will go. At least willingly. She can only control her thoughts so far, and already they’re running wild with the new information she’s just unearthed.

 

Because this isn’t just  _any_  stain. It’s…it’s-!

 

“Oh my god.” She can’t believe it. Or…maybe she can and just doesn’t want to? Not because she’s grossed out or angry or…if anything she’s  _happy_ for them. It even makes a bit of sense if she thinks about it. But that doesn’t excuse the fact that Lance just handed her a shirt with his and Keith’s…their…

 

Oh lord. She can’t even bring herself to think it, but the images from before seem more warranted now.

 

“EW!” She exclaims instead, dropping the clothing and cringing down at her hands. “I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU MADE ME HOLD THAT YOU NASTIES!”

 

Lance, at least, looks apologetic.

 

Keith just shrugs.

 

“So do you know how or…?”

 

She nearly gags, flipping him off as she storms out of the room, Keith laughing at whatever embarrassed noise Lance makes as she does.

 

_I should have known!!_

 

But she’s learned her lesson, and next time she won’t linger outside any rooms to eavesdrop, especially if it’s Lance and Keith she hears inside.

 

Her curiosity can stay suppressed. 

 

It’s just not worth the risk.

**Author's Note:**

> ha. 
> 
> haaaa
> 
> now go back and re-read it knowing the truth ;)


End file.
